I read her text:
"I'm vexed and oversexed,"
"Oh no, what will my Mother think?"
I sent a text:
"Screw vexed, Baby, I'm next,"
"Bring your Mom along for a drink!"
I read her text:
"You next?, you're the one vexed!"
"You're so bad and your manners stink!"
I sent a text:
"Not vexed, just oversexed,"
"Mom might not be mad as you'd think."
The spotlight flashes with a funny flair
on the sagged dress of a meek man on stage.
A miniature crimson cold sun shines stuck
on his puckered porcelain face of forced smile.
An animated caricature captured
in the frame of a comical frail figure,
tramps in inertia round and round
the circus arena to amuse awhile.
The sprightly body swivels in reflex
with the flexed shuffle of acrobatics,
as the sleight of supple hands performs
the perfect act of jugglery.
The labored buffoonery performed
by the funny fragile clown of lost soul,
falls flat as flakes of stale joke
on the silent spectators.
Before the neon lights go out
in the last show and the curtain falls,
the slapsticks peel slowly
the paint off his sweaty face.
The unmasked face trenches the trail of tears,
he has long shed un-noticed.
He leaves the stage singing a song,
the lyric written by his broken heart.
The uproar of laughter at long last
explodes with claps in the gallery.
The applause hails the clown,
left to live the comedy of hollow life.
To draw the string back, with a notched arrow,
To sense the taut twine pull against and test
The strength of stiffed up shoulders and flexed chest—
But not to loose the arrow at the sparrow;
To aim, to wait, to track through the narrow
Cracks between webbed branches, to feel one’s breast
Beating boldly, and breath deep, slowed, suppressed—
But not to shoot the shot at the sparrow;
Oh the bitter pangs of deeds not done, thoughts
Unsaid—how viciously they gnash and gnaw!
And of duration, long and dreadful are
The laments of a pounding heart’s grim knots.
Ah, what work it is such ice then to thaw,
As that of one who’s soul has missed its star.
Colonisation Poetry Contest
Kai Michael Neumann
Hawaii, my birthplace, and hometown
Fell victim of being colonized and uprooted
Those dirty rats ceased the cheese
By the 1900's the U.S annexed the territory
In other words, Hawaii was taken by force
And without consent
It's like the dirty rats came in and flexed their muscle
Much to the heartache and protest of the natives
Those disease-carrying rodents overthrew the kingdom
Queen Liliuokalani was forced to abdicate
A cultural genocide took root
The teachings of Hawaiian in schools wiped out
Housing and land requisitioned and displaced by military bases
And the underbelly of those dirty rats grew and grew
Today Hawaii is still a tropical paradise
Tourists flock to the island in droves
There are palm trees and sandy beaches everywhere
But it's the whispers and echoes of the natives
Pointing a finger at the dirty rats
And bemoaning their freedom and the 50th star on the flag
That will be forever lost
N/A-Another one. What else is new? I should go back to playing checkers.
An infant is brought into being,crafted out of earthly elements
Out of soil,out of water, breathing air moment after moment.
Nerves get nourished,strength is acquired as blood circulates through veins
The sheer love of her as nature gifts the first glimpse of consciousness.
Slowly things transform as seed sprouts into a towering tree
As the muscles are flexed,chest spreads wider and will is free.
Contained with posessions hedonistic desire hinging on self worth
The piled up matter of earthly elements absurdly tries to conquer the earth.
If you flirt men
Keep your bones flexed
Careful next time.
Asked the crowning Trees
of their Grass rooting neighbors
When you feel like singing
while dancing
are you more likely to invoke devotion
to capitalism's competitions
or compassion's cooperation?
Responsive chords,
amusing reeds
and whistling thistles
shyly reply
When we feel most wealthy voiced
and healthy choiced
are we more likely to invest
in red soiled cults
of secular supremacy
or green cultures
of sacred communion?
MotherTrees of crowning shade
for their root systemic neighbors
flexed their branching muscles
groaning
moaning through Earth's wind
and rain,
heat
and pain
Our best way to heal
Othering smothering instincts
is to repair our shared cooperative soil
restoring EarthPeace soul
of co-invested health
Thereby growing out
our shared climate
with compassion's devoted wealth
Sang the crowning Trees
while dancing with Grass rooting
up shooting
neighbors.
Cosmic rays catalyzed their mission
Mister Fantastic, Reed, led the group
He could stretch like atomic fission.
He bent and flexed to assist the troupe.
Before, girlfriend, later fiancé,
Invisible Woman made impact.
Sue's force field had significant splay
and her bombastic blasts were exact.
Johnny, the Human Torch, struck a name.
As Sue's brother, he was in the know,
used his powers to generate flame.
His embers turned a spark to a glow.
Oh, the monstrous Thing, friend to them all,
grumpy and grouchy but super strong.
He would have been grand with a football.
Stone-like durable flesh and headstrong.
More diversified team you won't find.
Like musketeers, they are one for all
These are the outcasts of humankind,
when need arises, we give them a call.
Your hands lingered as prints upon my mind.
I became a glove for your love.
I gave you time,
I gave you my tongue
so you could speak a moment of ecstasy.
You gave me Cauliflower cheese,
the only meal you could cook well.
Then when you were done
with my squishy love
you left on a bus, bound for West Ham,
left and did not wave back
from its people stuffed windows.
That was back then
when cakes were left out in the rain,
when poets wore bell-bottoms
when flower power flexed its stems
with blond muscle men.
No beaches in Tottenham,
the parks probably still are
municipal mud baths.
I recall it rained for days
in our love-stained apartment.
London often chooses
to live in small puddles of loneliness.
The mattress we had inherited,
survived to moan on and on.
like a hush …
sentinel …
the old willow stood guard
his branches, stout arms that held her
safe in childhood
supple limbs hugged and
flexed whene'er she sought blue sky
his embrace of lush fronds
let no rain wet her brow ...
their sweep offering but a kiss of gentle breath
and cool shade in the heavy
press of Summer heat
while shimmering strands of light
illumed her play time …
all her life he had gallantly charged her safety
but oh, how he weeped now from
his twisted old roots
as to-and-fro she swayed
at the end …
of a rope.
Copyright © Gregory R Barden, September 22, 2017
The spotlight flashes fun on the sagged garb
An animated caricature in comical human figure
With miniature red sun stuck on the porcelain nose
Tramps around the circus pitch making silly jokes.
The nimble body turns in flexed acrobatic moves
Sleight of hands performs the perfect jugglery act
But the labored buffoonery of the fragile jester
Falls flat as peels of stale joke on silent spectators.
Before the neon lights go out in the last show
The slapsticks strip the paint off his sweaty face
Uncovering the trail of tears he has secretly cried
He sings a song on the lyric of his broken heart.
The urn of contained laughter explodes in the gallery
The applause hails Tatters, the grotesque clown of pathos.
_______________
January 6, 2023
Contest : Tatters
Sponsored by : Mystic Rose Rose
You deserve all the happiness in the world
You deserve to be loved
You deserve to be treated better
You deserve a big hug
You deserve the whole truth
You deserve to be flexed
You deserve the compliments
You deserve all the best
You deserve the peace of mind
You deserve a temporary getaway
You deserve all the love that you want
You deserve to be well
The spotlight flashes funny flair
on the showy sagged dress,
miniature crimson cold sun stuck
on the puckered porcelain face.
An animated caricature captured
in comical frail human figure,
tramps round and round
the circus arena to amuse.
The sprightly body swivels
in flexed shuffle of acrobatics,
sleight of supple hands performs
the perfect act of jugglery,
but the labored buffoonery
of the funny fragile joker,
falls flat as flakes of stale joke
on the silent spectators.
Before the neon lights go out
in the last show and the curtain falls,
the slapsticks peel slowly
the paint off his sweaty face,
unmask the trail of tears
he has long shed un-noticed.
He leaves the stage singing a song,
the lyric written by his broken heart.
The uproar of laughter at long last
explodes with claps in the gallery,
the applause hails the joker,
left to live the comedy of life.
____________________
September 15, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
FATMAN
Here I now stand before you all
Muscles flexed and jutting chin
Up close, I am not so tall
But ripped when I suck it in
My deeds are seen as legendary
Always coming to people’s aid
A great pity I’m so sedentary
Always late, but point well made
Hero can be for some, a mere title
Rescue is often just in the mind
A Titan’s strength is not so vital
Enough to peel a grape you’ll find
I’m neither a bird nor a plane
I don’t fly, it makes me sick
But I’ve just lost my cape again
A new clasp would do the trick
Really, there’s no need to gasp
My feats are so mundane to me
My throat is sore, excuse the rasp
It’s my shouting at villains you see
As stories about me will be told
I’ll have to think about retiring
As I’m tired and feeling quite old
Tight pants now aren’t so inspiring
My career’s over, some may be glad
Later, you may find me sobbing
But this feathered pet looks so sad
Why did I adopt this little robin
Like a 5-person committee in a conference room,
they had gathered to engage in weather business.
Although a committee of five, they acted as one.
Their orchestrations for forecasting were easy,
and yesterday would be no different. Or would it?
There were white clouds, grey clouds, moisture,
sun, and mild wind. When unified in the canopy of
the sky, they are a force with which to be reckoned,
creating tornadoes, heavy rainstorms, floods, fires,
mudslides, and avalanches.
On yesterday, they had just one item of business,
but suddenly, that was quickly changed. A tiny bit
of moisture flexed its will but quickly pulled back,
giving way to the committee's will to produce a rainbow.
Me thinks that they were over-ruled by God. They wanted
to make it rain, but God wanted to make a rainbow to
remind everyone about His perpetual Rainbow Covenant.*
Each committee member never ceases to be arrested and
amazed by the rainbows they produce. Yesterday was no
different as they all smiled and dismissed the meeting.
8522PS*Gen. 9:12-17
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